An Unseen Goodbye
by Dawnstorm101
Summary: Sometimes, being a sister is even better than being a superhero. Sometimes, it's so much worse. [Or: Nine times Natasha said hi (or some variation thereof) to Wanda, and one time (technically two) Wanda said goodbye.]
1. The Loss

A/N: So, this is my entry for a writing challenge hosted by one of my Tumblr buds. My prompt was "an unseen goodbye," in the category of dancing with canon but filling in the gaps and making it better. It's not due until the end of the month, which gives you guys an idea of how eager my procrastinating self was to write this lol (I've had the idea for this chapter since shortly after I saw Endgame the first time, so it's been brewing for a while, this challenge just finally gave me the push to actually write it). Hope you enjoy!

* * *

_**April 2023**_

Wanda didn't need to see Thanos's army dissolving to know the battle was over. She didn't need to hear the sounds of battle stop, or feel the relief of two armies. No, she knew the exact moment Tony did.

She knew the moment he took the Stones. She knew the moment he snapped his fingers. She knew the moment his brilliant, shining mind began to dim.

His agony tore across the battlefield, white-hot and blinding, like being caught in a nuclear explosion. She fell to her knees, a scream tearing from her throat. She clutched her head, fingers fisting in her hair, struggling futilely to control the power that burst from her at the impact. His pain burned her, burned her mind like it was burning his arm, and she would never know how he wasn't screaming with her.

Then they started dying, and not one by one. Thanos and his two armies all died within seconds. Confusion, pain, fear, disbelief, they all burst through thousands of minds simultaneously in an overwhelming hurricane of final thoughts. They died just as rapidly, their minds leaving a vast emptiness behind in the blink of an eye, never giving her time to adjust. She shook from the suddenness of it, the intensity of it.

The grief came next, flooding into the void before she could take a breath. Pepper, Rhodey, Peter, Steve, Thor, Bruce, Clint, Nebula. It crashed over her like a tsunami, cold and unforgiving. It stole her breath, crushing it from her chest, rushing into her lungs instead of air when she tried to gasp. Tears poured down her face, silent, unstoppable, stinging the shrapnel cuts on her cheeks.

Wanda struggled. She struggled to rein her mind in, close it off, stop the inpouring of pain. Someone knelt beside her, trying to comfort her, but they weren't enough. "I need-" she tried to gasp. "I need-"

_Mom?_

_Dead._

_Dad?_

_Dead._

_Pietro?_

_Dead._

_Vis?_

_Dead._

_Nat?_

Someone came running up, dropping to their knees beside her. She couldn't see, couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't tell who it was, but the original comforter backed off, giving way to the newcomer. They tried to comfort her, to take her face into their hands, but their grief attacked her through the contact, combined with a relief so powerful that it electrified every overloaded neuron. She flinched away with a cry.

"Ok, ok, no touching. Got it."

The familiar voice, steady despite the emotions roiling within him, finally broke through the storm within her. "Clint?" she rasped.

"Yeah, kid, I'm here," he said, soft and blissfully, beautifully calm. "Just focus on my voice. It's just you and me."

Wanda clung to his voice, clung to it like a lifeline in a churning ocean. She hauled it closer to her, imagining it wrapping around her like a cocoon. Finally, _finally_, she found a moment of silence, the eye of the storm. She sucked in a breath, prying her eyes open to see Clint for the first time in what Strange had told her was five years.

"What happened to your hair?" she whispered.

Clint laughed. It was more relieved than amused, tinged by something almost maniacal, but it made her let out the tiniest, weakest of chuckles. He held out his hand in question, and almost before she had finished nodding, he was pulling her into the fiercest hug of her life. "_God_, I missed you," he breathed.

She let him disentangle her hands from her hair, let them fall to wrap around him. She started shaking again, but this time, it was her own pain, her own heartbreak that drove her to cling to him, burying her face in his shoulder. "I had to kill him, Clint," she sobbed. "I had to kill Vis."

"I know," he said quietly, running his fingers through her hair, smoothing it tenderly. "I know, kid."

His hand trembled as he spoke, and even through the haze of numbing exhaustion that had been setting in since the moment of calm, she felt his spike of grief. But it was different. It was too fresh to be about Vision, too old to be about Tony. It took all the willpower she could muster to lift her head and look at him. "Clint," she said lowly, hesitantly, "what aren't you telling me?"

His hand stuttered, tears welling in his eyes. He tried to control his grief, tried to keep it from her, but he couldn't stop the memory that flashed through his mind.

_Let me go._

_It's ok._

He couldn't hide the image of Nat sprawled at the bottom of a cliff, broken and bleeding, lifeless forevermore.

"No," Wanda protested, pushing back, trying to escape the memory. "No. No!"

Clint couldn't stop his tears anymore. He grabbed her hands, tried to pull her back to him. "I'm sorry," he rasped. "I'm sorry. I tried, I _tried_, I- I-"

His guilt surged over her, and she remembered hanging off the cliff, clutching Nat with everything she had, but it wasn't enough. She looked up at her, peaceful, accepting, ready to die to save her. Them. Clint. The universe.

Wanda tore her mind free from his, the effort stealing the last of her strength. She collapsed back against him, sobs wracking her body. He held her close, more reserved but crying with her nonetheless. "I just can't save any of your siblings, can I?" he whispered.

Wanda pressed her forehead into the crook between Clint's neck and shoulder, shaking her head. "No," she said brokenly. "We can't."


	2. The Memories

_**May 2015**_

Wanda huddled in the helicarrier's morgue. It was the first place she'd gone after Vision set her safely on the deck, finding Rogers setting Pietro down on one of the tables and Barton draping a sheet over him. Rogers had left without a word, merely pausing for a moment to squeeze her shoulder, but Barton had tried to talk. He'd stumbled through a few sentence openers before shaking his head, pulling up a chair for her, and settling on an exhausted, guilt laden "I'm sorry."

"What am I supposed to do without you?" she whispered.

Pietro had been energetic even before the superspeed that made every second feel like an eternity to him. He was always moving, always looking for something interesting, jiggling his leg, fidgeting with his clothes or hair. Even in his sleep, he snored and rolled around.

But now, lying on the cold metal table, he was perfectly still. His eyes were closed, his hair unbothered by wind or fidgeting fingers. His mind was just… gone. No buzzing thoughts, no love for her, no grumblings at whatever was annoying him this time. Not even the sense of hunger that had been near constant after gaining his enhanced metabolism.

She reached out with a trembling hand, brushing stray hair from his forehead. Her fingers brushed his skin, and he wasn't cold, not yet, but he wasn't… he wasn't _there_. He was gone.

_My twin is dead._

_What am I supposed to do now?_

"Hey."

Wanda jumped, twisting around in her chair. Scarlet power flickered instinctively around her palm before she remembered. She let her hand fall. "Do you want your jacket back?"

"No," Romanoff answered hurriedly, pulling up a chair. "No, I think you need it more than I do right now."

Wanda nodded, drawing it more tightly around her. "Thank you," she said. "And… I'm sorry."

Romanoff smiled bittersweetly, nodding to Pietro. "I'd say you've apologized enough."

She shook her head. "That was all him. I just-"

"-fought alongside us, risking everything you had to fix your mistakes," Romanoff finished. "Plus, Clint trusts you. That's all I need."

Wanda furrowed her brows, looking over at the Avenger.

"Clint recruited me, way back when," Romanoff elaborated. "And I'm sure that as an ex-Hydra employee with a vendetta against our team, you know what the infamous Black Widow was doing when he found me. So I tend to trust his judgment when he takes someone like us under his wing."

"Someone like us," Wanda echoed, her gaze drifting back to her lifeless brother. "People with no families who made all the wrong choices."

Romanoff leaned over to rest a hand on her knee, looking Wanda in the eye. In that moment, Wanda realized she had been crying, too. "People who did awful things, but decided not to let those things define us. And people who, thanks to Clint, have a new family."

Tears welled anew in Wanda's eyes. "Really?" she whispered.

Romanoff leaned back, a wry little smile playing across her lips. "Well, he hasn't kicked me out yet."

Wanda laughed.

-MCU-

_**September 2015**_

Wanda swiped her arm across her sweaty forehead, glaring at the punching bag. She'd been working all evening and into the night, trying to perfect the punching technique Sam was teaching her. All she'd earned for her efforts was a throbbing ache from her knuckles to her elbows.

"Can't sleep?" Natasha called.

Wanda massaged her left wrist. "Just trying to learn how to punch."

"Sam's idea?"

She switched to her right wrist. "Yeah."

"He's right," she pointed out. "You always need a backup plan if your powers fail."

"So everyone keeps saying," Wanda muttered. "Doesn't do much if I can't figure out how to punch."

"Fair." Natasha crossed her arms and leaned on a weight rack. She nodded to the punching bag. "Show me."

Wanda sighed. Taking up her stance and bracing for the pain, she threw a few punches.

"Not the worst I've ever seen," Natasha said, pushing off the rack and coming over. "That award goes to some creep trying to drug a girl at a party."

"…Good to know I punch better than a creep."

Natasha chuckled. "First of all, make sure to hit with the knuckles of your index and middle fingers first." She took Wanda's right arm, nudging it into position. "Keep your wrist straight and elbows tight, but don't tense them. Try and copy that with your left arm."

Wanda tried it, lifting her left arm to make it match her right arm.

"Good," Natasha said, giving a couple tiny taps to fix it. "Remember this when you're throwing the punches. Now, your posture…" She poked Wanda in the shoulder. Hard.

"Hey!"

"Good balance," she observed.

"I was a dancer before I lost my parents," Wanda told her, rubbing her shoulder and shooting Natasha a petulant look. "Balance is something I can do."

"You danced?" Natasha asked curiously, nudging her foot forward slightly.

Wanda nodded, looking down. "Ballet. I miss it."

"I do ballet. I can teach you everything you didn't have time to learn."

Wanda looked over, surprised. "Really?"

"We can't _always _go shopping when we want some girl time," Natasha joked.

"We can try."

Natasha laughed.

She gestured to the bag. "Now, when you punch, don't use your full strength. You'll get there in time, but start off easy, otherwise you'll hurt yourself. And punch fast. The bag should make a _smack _sound when you punch it properly. Got it?"

Wanda nodded.

"Then go."

She settled into her stance, taking a deep breath. Then she struck, remembering what Natasha had said. She kept her wrists straight and elbows tight but not tense; she hit with her index and middle knuckles first, fast and light. The room filled with resounding, satisfying _smacks_.

After half a minute, she stepped back. "That didn't hurt as much," she said, pleasantly surprised.

Natasha nodded. "That was a good set. Keep that up, and you'll be a pro in no time."

Wanda started peeling her gloves off, wincing as pain flared in her wrists and hands. "I don't know if I want to be a pro."

Natasha shook her head affectionately, helping with the gloves and wrappings before wrapping an arm around Wanda's shoulders and leading her to the kitchen. "Let's get you some ice, kid."

-MCU-

_**March 2016**_

"You're it!" Lila exclaimed, hitting Wanda's arm and bolting.

Wanda skidded to a halt, spinning to look around the farm for someone else to tag. Movement by the barn caught her attention and she ran towards it. Natasha and Cooper burst from its shelter. "Scatter!" Natasha cried, veering left when Cooper veered right.

For a heartbeat, Wanda considered chasing Cooper. But then she remembered Natasha kicking her ass in team trivia night last week, and she turned to chase her friend.

_I'll get you. I will make my brother proud and I will _get you_._

Natasha glanced over her shoulder, eyes widening at the sight of her. She swerved towards the pastures, racing alongside the fence. Wanda put on a spurt of speed, steadily gaining on her target. She smirked, the gap closing to mere feet.

Natasha doubled back sharply, passing within easy reach of Wanda. "Hi!" she exclaimed as she breezed past.

Surprised, Wanda missed her chance and stumbled trying to turn after her, grabbing the fence to stay upright. She recovered quickly, but Natasha was already well out of reach. The assassin tossed a smirk over her shoulder. "Bye!"

Wanda licked her lips. "I'm not done yet."

Guessing the path Natasha would take, Wanda took a different one. When Natasha ran uphill, Wanda kept to flatter ground, and gained quickly. Straining, she sprinted over the final distance, stretching her arm out to reach her. "You… are… it!"

She just managed to catch Natasha's elbow. She spun, surprised. Wanda skidded to a halt, but ended up tripping over the uneven ground. Natasha tried to catch her, but they ended up falling together, landing in a panting, dirty, laughing pile.

"Even Clint can't catch me," Natasha gasped through laughter.

"Because he's _old_."

"Hey!" Clint protested from the porch, holding little Nate.

"They're right, honey." Laura patted his shoulder, smiling at the two younger women. Clint spluttered. "All right, it's time for dinner!" she called. "Come inside and wash up."

Stomachs rumbling, still laughing, Natasha and Wanda helped each other up and retreated inside.

-MCU-

_**May 2016**_

Wanda sat in the room King T'Challa had provided her yesterday, sitting very carefully still on the bed, legs crossed and hands folded in her lap. The TV was playing an episode of _Too Cute _that a month ago she would've loved, but now she was focusing more on suppressing her telepathy, making sure it didn't activate so much as one single neuron.

She had been shocked too many times in the last several weeks to do anything else.

Someone knocked on her door. "Wanda?"

Wanda jumped. Her telepathy reached out, trying to check that it was actually who it sounded like, and she hurriedly reeled it back in. She tensed all the while, waiting for the inevitable shock from the phantom collar she could still feel around her neck.

Natasha stepped inside, easing the door shot behind her. "Hey, kiddo."

Wanda's shoulders slumped. "What are you doing here?" she whispered.

"Clint called me," she answered, coming to sit beside her. "And Sam. And Steve. And I wasn't going to stay away when you needed me."

Wanda looked down, wanting to fidget but forcing her hands to lie still. "You shouldn't have come," she said, keeping her voice quiet.

"I got in trouble all by myself, Wanda," Natasha assured her. "My exile is not on your conscience."

Wanda slumped further down, slowly pulling one knee up to her chest. "Everything else is."

"_Hey_," Natasha rebuked firmly. She cupped Wanda's neck in one hand and bent down to look her in the eye. "This is not your fault. We're all adults who made our own decisions, and Ross is on his own level, using Lagos to spring the Accords on us. You saved so many people on the ground, including Steve. You saved lives at the airport battle, too. Never blame yourself for being turned into a government pawn."

"That's not what Ross said when he put this shock collar on me." _And the straitjacket. And put me in solitary confinement._

"Like I said, Ross is a dick," Natasha said. A faint smile flickered across Wanda's lips. "And it's not _this _shock collar, not anymore. It's gone. You will _never_ have to wear it again."

Wanda wrapped her arms around herself, hating that the now-familiar position actually _eased_ some of her anxiety. "It doesn't feel like it."

"I know," Natasha murmured, rubbing her neck. "It was years before I got used to not sleeping handcuffed to my bed. I can still feel them, sometimes. But it gets better."

It was childish, so childish, but Wanda couldn't keep the tiny "Promise?" from escaping her lips.

Natasha smiled. She slid her arm around Wanda's shoulders to tuck her against her, holding out her other hand. "Promise."

Swallowing, Wanda pried her arm free of the phantom straitjacket and took Nat's hand, clutching it like a lifeline.

-MCU-

_**December 2016**_

Wanda curled up in bed, twirling her burner phone round and round between her fingers. The call had ended mere minutes ago, but already she missed Vis's voice with an aching heart.

A key scraped in the motel room's lock. She lifted a hand warily, dropping it when Nat walked in. "I bring soup," she announced, holding up a Styrofoam takeout bowl. "Soup and tissues."

"Oh, thank God," Wanda moaned, pushing herself upright. Nat tossed her the tissues and she tore one free, rubbing it across her runny nose. "Sam? Steve?"

"Their mission is taking longer than they expected," Nat answered. She locked the door and carried the takeout over to the beds, cramming it onto the tiny nightstand between them. "Not surprising, considering we're here."

Wanda laughed, throwing the tissue away and taking the hand sanitizer Nat set down beside her. "You didn't have to stay with me."

"I'm not leaving you to suffer alone. Nor do I trust those two to not attract all sorts of trouble that would slow your recovery."

"Fair," Wanda conceded, picking up her soup. She couldn't really smell it, but it was delightfully warm. "I love you."

Nat narrowed her eyes. "Are you talking to me or the soup?"

"…I can love two things," Wanda mumbled.

Nat chuckled, opening up her own much more substantial meal. "Quality save."

Wanda ate her first spoonful, closing her eyes and savoring it. "But I think I love the soup more."

"A woman's gotta have her priorities, I suppose."

They lapsed into companionable silence, flipping the TV on and finding the cooking channel. Wanda was about halfway through her soup when Nat set her meal down. "You keep looking at that phone."

Wanda blinked, pulling her gaze back to the soup. "And?"

"And we all know that you didn't buy that phone like you told us. Clint didn't give it to you, either, and there's only one other person we left behind that you're close enough with to lie to us about for months."

Wanda winced. "Am I that easy to read?"

"You just don't hide when you love someone," Nat corrected gently. "That's a good thing. Except in front of your enemies."

Wanda shook her head affectionately. "If you say so."

Nat leaned back and stretched out, plucking a chip from the remains of her dinner. "So, how is Vision doing?"

"Good, I guess," Wanda answered, sipping at another spoonful of soup. "He's pretty sure Tony knows we've been talking."

"There's not much he doesn't know," Nat agreed. "He'll protect you, though. He always does."

"Yeah," Wanda murmured, staring absently into her soup. "He does."

Nat tilted her head. "What is it?"

"What does…" Wanda bit her lip. "Have you ever been in love?"

Nat hesitated so long Wanda thought she wouldn't answer. "Once," she finally answered. "Why?"

Wanda looked up at her. "What does it feel like?"

Again, Nat hesitated. She looked away, her gaze growing unfocused. Without even trying, Wanda felt her burst of mingled grief and nostalgia. "It…" she started. "I'm not sure I should be the one answering that."

"But I'm asking you. Woman to woman. Friend to friend."

Nat sighed. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. "Love… It feels like everything. Excitement, like you're going on an adventure. Joy, like you're on top of the world. Terror, like you're on the edge of a cliff. Falling, like you're crashing to the ground with no hope of stopping. Flying, like gravity has no hold on you and the wind is whipping through your hair. It… it feels like you're either about to lose everything, or gain the only thing that'll ever matter."

She opened her eyes. "At least at the start. Which… I never got any farther." She looked at Wanda. "Is that what you feel?"

Wanda picked up the phone, brushing her thumb over it, remembering the calming fluttering of her heart when she heard Vis's soft voice on the other end. "Yeah," she whispered. "It is."

-MCU-

_**February 2017**_

Wanda stepped out of the changing room, pulling uncomfortably at the baby blue dress Nat had picked out. "I don't know. It's not… me."

From her seat on the bench, Natasha considered the dress. "No," she agreed. "Next dress."

Wanda retreated, pulling it off in relief. "Isn't this weird?"

"What?"

She picked up the next dress, a cute yellow one. "Shopping for a date. What if I have to run?"

"That's why you pick something that looks good with sneakers."

Wanda stepped out again, looking at herself in the mirror. "It fits well enough."

Nat came up and tugged at the skirt, frowning. "Not long enough for shorts."

"Why do I need shorts?"

"Because I'm not letting you get caught in battle in just a skirt ever again. Also, 'well enough' isn't good enough for your first date with Vision. Next."

Wanda sighed, going back and changing into a longer black dress. "Not bad," Nat said when she came back out. "But not the one."

Wanda retreated, grabbing the last dress, the one they had been avoiding for two hours.

The moment it settled on her shoulders, she knew.

She emerged, head ducked. Part of it was shyness, most of it was admiring the skirt.

It swished around her knees, wine red and soft. She tucked her hands into pockets set below a black belt tied with a cute little red bow to the side. It came up to her collarbone in a comfy jewel neckline that left her covered and secured but with freedom to move her arms.

Nat's eyes lit up. "Well, _hello _gorgeous," she said emphatically, coming over to smooth out the straps.

"I thought we were avoiding this color," Wanda said with absolutely no conviction, twisting to admire how it flattered all the right curves.

"I guess we can't fight that this is _your _color," Nat said, poking the bow. "Even this is cute."

Wanda's jaw dropped. "The dress that convinced Natasha Romanoff to think bows are cute. This _is _a keeper."

Nat smiled wryly, turning to look at Wanda in the mirror. "If he doesn't love you in this, I'll kick his ass."

"Nat!"

-MCU-

_**June 2017**_

Wanda flipped her phone shut and stuck it in the glove compartment, slumping back with a disappointed sigh. Her wounds from the fight yesterday ached anew, right alongside her heart. It had been two months since she and Vis had been able to meet, and he had just had to cancel their weekend on account of an emergency in Florida. Leaving her alone at a drive-in movie.

She picked half-heartedly at the popcorn she'd brought, preparing for two hours of loneliness.

The passenger door open, and in dropped Nat. "Hi," she said, reaching immediately for the popcorn.

Wanda stared. "How did you get here?"

"I had a feeling, so I followed you, and then I got a call from Vision saying you would need some company." She pointed at the popcorn. "This is good. You should eat some."

Still not quite processing Nat's appearance, Wanda blindly picked up a couple pieces and ate them. "You… you followed me to another country?"

"It's Europe, kid, it's not that far. But I'm driving us home."

"Why?"

"Because you drive like paranoid dad Clint taught you."

Wanda pursed her lips and threw a piece of popcorn at her. "I drive _fine_."

Nat threw a piece of popcorn at her. "You drive like an old lady."

Wanda retaliated with a couple pieces of popcorn. "I drive the speed_ limit_. You're a speed _demon_."

"It's _fun_," Nat said, throwing a couple back. "You're too careful."

Wanda grabbed an entire fistful. "I'm trying not to die!"

Rather than pretend to be affronted at the fistful of flying popcorn, Nat swerved to catch it in her mouth. She caught a single piece, the rest bouncing against her face and hair and shoulders before bouncing to the floor. Wanda's snort turned into laughter. She threw another handful and, grinning, Nat tried to catch it again.

She swallowed the piece she managed to catch and leaned back. "Feel better?"

Wanda nodded, leaning back. "Thanks."

Nat smiled in satisfaction, turning to watch the movie. "Any time."

-MCU-

_**August 2018**_

Wanda walked down the street, glancing between the note in her hand and the addresses on the buildings. She'd woken up to any empty motel room, with only the note left to tell her anything. In Nat's tiny, neat handwriting, it had told her to dress cute and meet the team at the address given. Confused, half expecting it to be trap (except no one, in her experience, had ever been able to replicate the miniscule size of Nat's handwriting, nor had there been any hidden messages), she had set out to obey.

_201… 203… 205… 207._

She stopped outside of a little diner. A glance at the menu hanging inside the window made her stomach rumble longingly. "Nat?" she called, opening the door to the chime of a bell. "Sam? Steve?"

The lights were off, but the morning sunlight let her see the quaint little interior, loaded with the vintage charm she loved. She could feel the team's minds, but she couldn't see-

"Surprise!"

They jumped up from behind a table a few feet away. Steve reached to the ceiling, tugging on a little string, and a poster swung down over their heads. _Happy Birthday, Wanda! _it read in colorful bubble letters. Sam popped a confetti popper, and the image of a rainbow of glittery confetti falling to coat Black Widow, Captain America, and Falcon made Wanda double over laughing.

"I told you she'd mock us," Sam complained.

"You can't always be the coolest person in the room, Sam," Nat teased.

Wanda sucked in a breath, straightening up. "I love it, Sam, I do," she promised. "It's just that…" She moved over and plucked a bright purple piece of confetti off his head. "You're covered in glitter."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He pulled her into a hug. "Happy birthday, Scarlet."

Steve chuckled, hugging her next. "Happy birthday."

Nat took her turn, smiling like a proud sister. "How does it feel to be 20?"

"Weird," Wanda answered. "Definitely weird."

"You're officially old, kid," Steve said. "Welcome to the club."

Wanda arched an eyebrow. "I won't be in your club until I'm white-haired and wrinkled."

"She's right," Nat agreed, patting Steve sympathetically on the shoulder. "You're still on your own, Cap."

Steve looked to Sam for help, but found only an amused smirk. He let out a ragged sigh. Wanda laughed.

Chuckling at the old man, Nat pulled Wanda aside. "Clint's going to call in a few hours," she told her, laughter fading away. "He'll let you talk with Nate."

Wanda's eyes widened, the ache of missing her twin's namesake hitting her anew. "Really?"

She nodded, taking a new burner phone out of her pocket and putting it in Wanda's hand. "I know we agreed to keep the kids out of this as much as possible, but, well, it's your twentieth. We thought you deserved something special."

Wanda threw her arms around Nat, tears pricking her eyes. "Thank you, Nat, _thank you_."

Nat smiled, and while she would never admit it, Wanda knew there were tears in her eyes too. "I love you too, _sestra_. I love you too."

-MCU-

_**May 2018**_

Wanda only let herself feel her own pain when Vision entered sleep mode. Still holding him close, she slumped back against her seat, closing her eyes with a groan. Her entire body ached, the cut on her forehead stung, and the fading adrenaline surge left her trembling.

"Never do that again."

Wanda rolled her head to look at Nat. "Do you really think I want to?"

"No." Nat opened up a medkit, picking out some antiseptic wipes. "It doesn't mean you won't do it on accident."

"So what's the point of telling me not to do it again?"

"Don't sass me, I just nearly lost you."

"I know," Wanda whispered. She looked back at Vision, fast asleep in the mode he had installed purely to feel the joy of waking up to her curled up in his arms. "I nearly lost him. Right in front of me. It was- it was like-"

"Hush," Nat soothed, taking her chin and tilting her head back to her. "You can't focus on that. You both survived, and now you're with us. We'll protect him."

Nat started gently cleaning the cut, and Wanda winced from the sting. "You can't promise that."

"I can't promise we'll _succeed_," Nat corrected her. "But I can promise we'll do everything in our power to try."

Despite it all, Wanda gave a weary smile. "You always know just what to say."

"I wouldn't be a very good sister if I didn't."

Nat finished cleaning, and Wanda dropped her head to rest on Nat's shoulder, letting the warmth and security of Nat's presence lull her to sleep. "Thanks for taking care of me."

Nat pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "Always, little _sestra_. For as long as I can."


	3. The Goodbye

_**April 2023**_

"We're here."

Wanda lifted her head, blinking away the memories of the precious few years she had had with Nat. Clint parked the car, getting out and hovering over everyone as they joined him. They didn't protest.

Two days after the second battle against Thanos, Wanda followed the Bartons into the cemetery where Laura's family was traditionally laid to rest. Laura, Nate in her arms and Cooper and Lila by her side, led the way, weaving quietly amongst the gravestones. Clint trailed behind with Wanda, holding one of the three bouquets she'd brought for her.

Wanda took a slightly different path from Laura and the kids, leaving them to their grief for a while. First, she went two graves to the right of the one they stopped at. Kneeling before it, she gently set down the bouquet of tiny white and baby blue flowers. "I'm told it's been a few years," she joked half-heartedly.

There was a second gravestone beside her brother's, sharing the same plot, her own name etched into it. It was strange, but fitting, she supposed. It wasn't like there had been a body to bury.

"Did you see him?" Clint asked, standing over her like a guardian. "When you were… you know."

Wanda shook her head, resting a hand atop Pietro's gravestone. "No," she replied. "I don't know where we were for those five years, but… it wasn't with him."

"I'm sorry."

She bit her lip. "It's… it's not ok, but I still have to believe that he's out there. That we were in some sort of Infinity Stone limbo, and the Jewish afterlife is real, and he's there, waiting for me."

Clint squeezed her shoulder. "I know it is. He'd never go where you couldn't someday follow."

She glanced back at him, giving him a wavering smile. "Thank you."

Giving Pietro's gravestone a squeeze, she stood, moving one grave to the left. She knelt before it, but before she could bring herself to do anything more, she bowed her head and clenched her eyes shut, trying to banish the memories it conjured.

To half the universe, it had been five years.

To her, it hadn't even been half a week.

"It was Nat's idea," Clint explained, stumbling over her name. "To bury him here, I mean. She, uh… she said you would appreciate that."

"I do," Wanda assured him, forcing her eyes open. She set down the red and yellow bouquet to trail her fingers over Vision's name. "Do you… do you think androids get an afterlife?"

"After what he went through to save the universe? Yeah, kid. He's with your brother."

Wanda pressed a tear-stained kiss to her fingers, then touched them to Vision's name and whispered the words she had been too broken to say five years ago: "I love you, too."

To her left, Laura and the kids stood. After a moment with Clint, Laura guided them away, back to the car.

Wanda stayed frozen at Vision's grave.

She had had three years to adjust to Pietro's death.

She had, to the best of her ability, come to terms with having to sacrifice Vision.

She hadn't even gotten to say goodbye to Nat.

Realizing what she was doing, Clint patted her shoulder. "Come on, kid. You'll just feel worse in the long run if you don't do this now."

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, taking the hand Clint offered, Wanda pulled herself to her feet. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and together, they walked to the next grave.

_Natasha Romanoff  
November 22, 1984  
April 24, 2023  
Beloved aunt, sister, and Avenger_

_It doesn't capture her, _Wanda thought. It didn't capture the brilliant mind that could think her out of even the direst of situations. It didn't capture the golden heart that had flourished and grown and _loved _so much despite the Red Room's best attempts to carve it out. It didn't capture the sarcasm that could convey the greatest disdain or the warmest affection. It didn't capture the spirit that could shift from fighting like a lion to caring like a mother in the quickest of seconds.

The gravestone honored Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow.

The gravestone couldn't capture Nat.

Clint handed her the final bouquet, and she took it with trembling hands. It wasn't black or red, like most people might expect.

It was deep, vivid pink. It was fiery orange. It was dark, sapphire blue.

It was the colors of the sunsets she had loved to watch. She'd told Wanda once that she found a certain poetry in the sun's fire taking the blue sky and white clouds and burning them into new, vibrant colors. A trial by fire that took something nice and turned it into something awe-inspiring.

Wanda had never told her, but she thought Nat was like a sunset. Brilliant, fiery, and gone far, far too soon.

"She loved you. Having to put your name on Pietro's gravestone… it nearly broke her."

Wanda looked up at him, his face blurred by her tears. "At the end, though," she whispered, "was she…"

Clint cupped her face in his hands, bringing her to him to press a long, gentle kiss to her forehead. "She didn't regret a thing, Wanda. She loved us to the very end."

Wanda nodded. Blinking through the tears, she leaned forward to set the bouquet down. She bowed her head, touching her forehead to the top of the stone. "Goodbye, Nat," she murmured. "Thank you for taking care of me."

A breeze wound its way through the cemetery, and Wanda could've sworn she heard a familiar voice whisper _Always, little _sestra_. Always._

* * *

A/N: Yeah, I made myself cry writing that last bit. And I never thought I'd embrace the idea of the twins technically being canonically teens in AOU (I literally said just the other day that I don't use that in my fics lol), but I guess it's set in my head now wHoOpS


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